The Ever After

by Amanda Hocking

  “What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Footsteps rumbled across the roof, followed by a bang on the landing outside the front door as Bryn jumped down onto it. A moment later, she came in, her expression unreadable, and she set the amplifier on the shelf by the door.

  “So.” Bryn sat down in front of the plate Dagny had left for her at the table. “You found out we’re not sisters.”

  “Yeah, Elof told me,” I said.

  “My dad’s probably not Iver, but it might not be Indu either.” Bryn took a bite out of her sandwich. She chewed and swallowed before saying, “And you’re probably not Indu’s daughter, but you might be. To know for sure, we need Indu’s blood.”

  “And we’re fresh out at the moment,” I said. “Indu and his daughters are hiding out in the wilds of Sweden, and they’ve gone to great lengths to make sure that we don’t remember how to find them.”

  “Not all his daughters,” Bryn corrected me.

  “That’s the baby you know in Fulaträsk,” I realized. “You’re talking about Bekk Vallin. But she’s still pregnant.”

  “Humans do in utero blood tests all the time,” Bryn said with a shrug. “I looked it up online. Dagny thinks Elof can handle it.”

  “I said ‘probably,’ but you need to talk to him,” Dagny said as she dipped her sandwich in the soup.

  “At any rate, I’m going to Fulaträsk to get to the bottom of this,” Bryn announced, and rested her blue eyes on me. “I want you to go with me.”

  “Wh-When?” I was caught off guard by her invitation.

  “It depends on if Elof needs to come with to get the samples, and what his availability is,” Bryn said. “But the sooner the better, if I have a say.”

  “I understand,” I said, and she was looking at me expectantly, waiting for my answer. “Um, yeah, sure. I mean, of course. I want to know what the deal is with Indu, and I want to help you.”

  “Good.” She smiled and relaxed some. “Ridley didn’t want me going alone.”

  “Why not?” Dagny wrinkled her nose. “You can take care of yourself.”

  “Yes, I can,” Bryn agreed readily. “And Ridley agrees with that in most situations, but I have some history with Fulaträsk and the Omte Queen.” She took another bite and talked around it. “She held me and … a friend captive for days. But that was five years ago, before the war. And during the Invasion of Doldastam, Ridley killed her advisor, Helge Otäck, and that’s where she got most of her terrible advice.

  “I’ve seen her since then without problems,” Bryn finished nonchalantly. “But Ridley says that’s different because it’s always been at kingdom events and never on her own home ground in Fulaträsk.”

  “I … I will go with you, Bryn,” I said carefully. “But I don’t know how much help I can be if the Omte Queen wants to lock you up.”

  Bryn seemed to consider this as she chewed. “It would probably be better if Elof does come with us. He’s already proven himself very capable at getting captives released.”

  25

  Strategies

  Bryn worked with quick determination, and by noon the next day, she had everything in place. Elof was happy to come with, mostly because it would give him a chance to find out more about Indu and the Älvolk, and he even managed to convince the Mimirin it would be beneficial so he got to fly on their dime.

  Unfortunately, since neither Bryn nor I were affiliated with the Mimirin, we’d have to pay our own way. Or rather, Bryn would be paying our way. I again tried to decline, telling her I had no idea when I’d be able to pay her back because I didn’t have a job right now, but Bryn just shrugged it off and insisted that this was what she wanted to do.

  “I worked hard for that money,” she said. “I don’t need much, so I’ve saved a lot. I did that so I’d have it if I needed it, and I need it now.”

  So I stopped arguing with her and just hugged and thanked her, and I let her buy us tickets.

  Dagny was staying behind to hold down the lab while Elof was gone, so she went to work in the morning, like normal. I stayed at the apartment, packing and watching Bryn make arrangements and work out.

  Around lunchtime, a knock at the door interrupted our planning and packing. I answered it to find Pan standing on my doorstep. He ran a hand through his disheveled curls and gave me an anxious smile.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, yeah.” He nodded, but his gaze went past me, watching as Bryn moved around the apartment. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  There wasn’t anywhere private inside the apartment—only the bathroom and Dagny’s room—and I wasn’t comfortable hanging out with Pan in either one. So I ushered him out onto the landing and closed the door behind us.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “I saw Dagny at the Mimirin.” His expression faltered. “She told me you’re going to Fulaträsk.”

  “Yeah, it was Bryn’s idea. Last night,” I said. “But we just got everything finalized. I was going to tell you today when you were done with work.”

  “No, you don’t have to rush and tell me the second you make plans. I wouldn’t want that or expect that of you,” he said, but he sounded sullen.

  “You seem upset,” I said carefully.

  “I’m not upset. Exactly.” He frowned at his own words and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s hard to explain.”

  I leaned against the railing beside him. “About me going to Fulaträsk?”

  “Yes and no.” His eyes were downcast, and he exhaled. “I think you know that I care about you.”

  “Yeah, I guessed that when we made out in Isarna.” I laughed, hoping it would hide how nervous I felt.

  He smiled crookedly at me. “I guess it was pretty obvious.”

  “Not too obvious,” I allowed, and my stomach was twisting up.

  Was he breaking up with me? How was that even possible when we weren’t really dating? Were we? I hadn’t even really had a chance to talk to him about us or what our romance really was. Every time we were together, we just were. And for me now—

  —my mind suddenly flashed back to the Älvolk dungeon, the dark stone, Pan’s arm stretching through the iron bars, straining for me, and our fingers barely touching before Noomi and Tuva yanked me backward—

  —being with him was enough, and I hoped he felt the same way.

  “But now…” He looked away again. “I feel like I’m in such a weird place. That we’re in such a weird place.” There was a heavy pause before he quietly said, “We’d only just kissed and then—” He snapped his fingers, the sound startling me in contrast with his quiet voice. “—I’m back here and a month has passed.

  “At least, in my mind that’s how it plays out,” he went on. “But there’s this feeling that I have that … I know you.” His eyebrows pinched as he tried to find the right words. “We went through something intense and strange and traumatic, and even though I don’t remember, I still have these feelings, like faint emotional memories.…”

  “I think I understand,” I said.

  He looked at me hopefully. “You do?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “I have all these lingering feelings that I can’t always explain.”

  “And when I think about you, I feel so worried and helpless.”

  “Thanks?” I said uncertainly.

  “No, that came out wrong.” He grimaced and shook his head. “I only meant that I cared about you, and our time together deepened that. When we were with the Älvolk, I know they were hurting you, I know I couldn’t do anything to stop it, and I know I don’t want you to go through that again.”

  “Neither do I,” I agreed.

  “When Dagny mentioned that Bryn wanted you to join her in Fulaträsk because the Queen held her hostage once before … I kinda panicked,” he admitted.

  “I wasn’t happy when she told me either,” I said. “But she doesn’t sound worried, and you and I didn’t have any trouble when we went to Fulaträsk earlier this summer.�
�

  “We didn’t go with Bryn,” he reminded me quietly. “Who apparently has an antagonistic relationship with the Queen. And you’re still recovering from your last hostage situation.”

  “I’m going to a major troll city with Bryn and Elof to visit a friend,” I reasoned. “I think we’ll be safe, and I also think it’s the best place to find the truth about who my father is. Elof still says I’m half-Omte, and if it’s not Indu, the Omte kingdom is the best place to find answers.”

  His jaw set as he thought, his eyes staring off into the distance. The Mimirin was just visible above the rooftops. From my front door, we could see the thirteen atriums on the roof of the institution, all of them housing an Ögonen that watched over the citadel.

  “Let me come with you,” he said finally.

  “What?”

  He looked over at me. “I want to go with you to Fulaträsk.”

  “What?” I repeated. “What about work?”

  “I can help you,” he persisted. “I’ve got some connections from working the Inhemsk. Sylvi told me I could take off more time if I needed it, and I think I actually do need it. And yeah, the plane tickets aren’t going to leave me with much in my savings, but I can always save more, right?”

  “Maybe,” I said hesitantly.

  “I can help you, and I want to make sure you’re safe, and … I want to be with you.” He licked his lips. “I really like you, Ulla, and I feel like I almost lost you in Áibmoráigi. I don’t want to do that again.”

  “I really like you too,” I said with my heart hammering in my chest. “I’m not asking you to do this, and I think I’ll be safe, with or without you. But I won’t lie; I’d be happy if you came with.”

  He leaned back on the railing, his hand beside him on the wood, and I tentatively put my hand over his.

  “So I’m saying, it’s up to you what you want to do from here,” I said finally.

  He smiled then, subtle but knowing, and it matched the dark heat in his eyes. “That’s good, because I know of something I really want to do right now.”

  My stomach fluttered, and he leaned in toward me. He hesitated a moment—his eyes searching mine, almost as if looking for something, and I wondered if he remembered kissing me during the Lost Month.

  But before his lips touched mine, Bryn opened the front door behind us, and it hit me painfully in the back. I tried to step out of the way, but the landing wasn’t very large, and Pan put an arm around me, letting my body press against him.

  “Sorry.” Bryn stepped back and closed the door partway, giving us more room, and now only her head was poking out. “I was checking to see if your friend is staying for lunch.”

  “Um, thanks, but I should probably get back to the office and start getting things arranged for the trip.” Pan moved away from me, toward the steps. “I’ll call you when I get down to my desk and get details.”

  “Okay,” I said, trying not to sound disappointed that he was slipping away without a kiss.

  “I’ll talk to you soon,” he said, then looked to Bryn and gave her a small wave. “Nice to see you again, Bryn.” Then he went down the stairs and down the path toward the Mimirin.

  “Is he coming with us?” she asked me, and opened the door wider so I could go into the apartment.

  “Yeah, he is. I mean, if that’s okay,” I said. “He’s paying his own way, but it’ll be easier if we travel together.”

  “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “He’s my … something.” I tried to seem nonchalant even though my cheeks had felt warm since she’d caught me outside with him, near-kiss. “And he knows a lot about Fulaträsk. He can help us.”

  “Whatever works for you guys works for me,” she said, and she went back to folding her freshly laundered clothes. “I went to Fulaträsk with a guy once. He said it was just to help.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  She paused and her face darkened. Then she shook her head. “Just be careful.”

  26

  Sutherlands

  In the wee hours of the morning, when the sun was still dark and most of Merellä was sleeping, Bryn drove the four of us—herself, Elof, Pan, and me—to the airport in Eugene. It felt strange going without Dagny, but she wanted to stay behind and keep looking at what was happening with the weather and the eclipse incident a few days ago.

  Despite the early hour, Dagny had gotten up to see us off and to take in Brueger, since she was dog-sitting for Pan again. When she hugged me goodbye, she told me to be safe, and I noticed the worry in her eyes—something I wasn’t used to seeing her with.

  I hadn’t realized until then how much all of this had affected her. She always seemed so impervious and impassive. But it wasn’t just concern, it was fear—not for me but of her own experiences. There hadn’t been much time for any of us to process what we’d gone through.

  It was nearly a three-hour drive to the airport, and I sat in the back with Pan, dozing on and off. As Bryn parked, I woke up with my head on his shoulder, and I immediately mumbled a preemptive apology about snoring and discomfort.

  “Don’t worry. I slept most of the time too,” he assured me, and he kissed the top of my head while I was still leaning on him. Then he opened the car door and got out.

  The flights were long—we had two stops before finally landing in Lafayette, Louisiana—and I sat by strangers each time. At least I was definitely getting a better hand on flying and making small talk with humans. They weren’t all that different than trolls, really, except that they wore too much perfume and played on their electronics far more often.

  After we landed in Louisiana, Bryn rented another car, and we drove until the paved roads gave way to a bumpy dirt road, so overgrown and wild it was almost taken back by nature. Bryn drove slowly as towering cypress trees surrounded us, blocking out the late-afternoon sun.

  I had been to Fulaträsk before, with Pan, but we’d gone directly to his friend Rikky’s house on the outskirts of the city. This time we were going right to the heart, for lodging at the Yggammi Tree Inn, an Omte hotel.

  The road ended at the edge of a marsh, where the tall grass and reeds became a swamp. On the left side of the road was a dock, made with sun-bleached mossy boards. On the other side was a parking lot of sorts, with two dozen or so cars parked on the field. The ones closest to the road were newer and cleaner, but the ones in the far corner were rusted and overgrown; a couple were half sunk in the ground.

  Bryn parked near the edge, and as we got out, I heard the familiar sound of the airboat’s loud fan motor as it pulled up to the dock. On the side, Yggammi Tree Inn was painted, and the driver was a tall man with thick arms barely hidden under a dull orange work shirt. The logo for the hotel was just above where the name Knut was embroidered.

  “Last time I came here, I didn’t arrange a ride first,” Bryn explained as we got our bags out of the car. “We had to wade through the swamp, and I definitely saw an alligator.” She smirked. “I figured you guys wouldn’t want to deal with that.”

  “You thought correctly,” I said, and slung my bag over my shoulder.

  “The last time I was here, I hadn’t known to arrange transport either,” Elof said. “Fortunately, an ogre was passing by, and he literally carried me into town. It was quite the journey.”

  “I didn’t know you had been here before,” I commented as we walked down the long dock.

  “Ah, yes, I was in my early twenties,” he explained. “It was after my second year at Stanford, and I was growing annoyed living among the humans. I thought there was no place better to get in touch with my trollian roots than a secluded Omte city.”

  “You didn’t like your time here?” Pan asked.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Elof said with a weary sigh. “I was young, restless, and maybe a little cocky. The summer was long, but I learned a lot. Like to never sneak up on a gator.”

  “Did something happen with you and an alligator?” I asked in surprise.

  “No, it’s ju
st good advice. The ogre told me that when I got here.”

  Elof sat at the back of the airboat, near Knut, and he chatted with him amiably about the city. Bryn stood, one hand on the back of the bench seat to steady herself. There was room to sit beside me and Pan, but she preferred standing, staring straight ahead.

  It was hot, well into the nineties, and the air felt thick on my skin, so I was happy for the breeze as the boat weaved through the bald cypress trees. Fulaträsk was an oddly beautiful city—or at least the parts that I could see were. Most of the homes were built high in trees, embellished with scrap metal and found objects, and camouflaged with moss, vines, and tree branches. I couldn’t even really see them until we were right under them, and I saw the ladders or occasional spiral staircases wrapping around massive tree trunks.

  Wooden bridges connected some of the tree houses, creating a neighborhood in the sky. The Omte didn’t have the kind of cloaking abilities the other tribes did, so they relied more on traditional means of hiding from the humans. Their city was in the middle of a swamp, with no roads. A few homes were on marshy islands or stilts, like Pan’s friend Rikky’s place.

  As the name implied, the Yggammi Tree Inn was a tree house atop a trio of thick Southern live oaks that had grown close together, their branches spreading out and intertwining with each other like tentacles. Atop the multitude of hefty branches was the large octagonal building made of sun-faded wood. A staircase wound around the narrowest trunk, meeting with the dock at the base, where another airboat and two canoes were tied up.

  After Knut parked the boat, he offered to carry our bags, but only Elof took him up on it, since Bryn and Pan had packed so lightly. Knut lunged up ahead, and we followed him more slowly, pacing ourselves as we climbed the dozens of stairs.

  The hotel was rather nice, nicer than the human motels I’d stayed in before, and closer to the luxury tree house I’d seen on a glitzy TV show, but in a rustic, understated Omte sort of way. Polished wood floors, distressed wood on the walls. The check-in counter was a solid chunk of raw-edged wood, and the wall behind it was a big mirror with gilded edges. An alligator head was mounted on another wall, wearing a pair of bronze sunglasses, but the centerpiece of the room was a vintage chandelier made with brass and mirror crystals.